Divine Retribution

The sky was beginning to darken into a rich, velvety navy, streaked with dim shades of violet and silver as the Vimana silently cut through the upper reaches of the atmosphere. Far below them, the land stretched in patches of wilderness and jagged mountain ridges, oceans shimmering like molten obsidian under the pale kiss of the moonlight. High above, the stars blinked like watchful eyes, indifferent and eternal.

Near the throne, the golden light from the arcane runes etched into the walls pulsed faintly with the ship's heartbeat. Edward leaned against the curved armrest of the throne, half-seated with his long coat trailing off his shoulder. One hand drummed absently on his knee, while the other rested on the hilt of a blade sheathed at his waist—though his touch lacked tension or readiness. His gaze wasn't focused on anything. Not really. He was staring, but his mind was far away. Lost between universes. Drowning in names and legends.

Darkseid.

Even just the sound of it rang through his skull like a gong, deep and ominous. It didn't belong in this world. Not in a realm of gods and Amazons. That name belonged in a comic panel, not in the real, tangible air of this strange myth-warped universe.

He whispered under his breath, "Darkseid... are you kidding me? What next? Ultra Man? Batman who laughs? Flashpoint? "

First, the Heroic Spirits. The system had jammed multiple Servants into his soul, like some cursed buffet of power he never ordered. Then the Greek Pantheon decided to drop in, hurling thunderbolts and prophecies like candy. And now?

Now cosmic-tier villains with omega beams.

"…I swear, if good ol' Lucy shows up next, I'm out," Edward muttered, rubbing his face with both hands.

He closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing the side of his face. "So now it's gods, heroes, and DC villains. What next? Aliens? Time travel? Giant robots?"

He wasn't even joking anymore. He was just… tired. Tired of not knowing what was going on. Tired of being dropped into things without a map.

Behind him, Hippolyta sat quietly, legs crossed and arms folded. She watched him without speaking. He was nothing like she expected when he first crashed into her world like a storm. There was power, yes, but also… confusion. He looked calm on the outside, but she could see it—the storm still swirling beneath his skin.

She waited a little, then finally spoke.

"So," she said, her voice steady and curious, "you never told me your full name."

Edward opened his eyes and turned slightly to look at her. He blinked like he'd forgotten she was there.

"…Didn't I?"

She gave a small shrug, amused. "No. You didn't."

"Edward Elric," he said after a short pause. "Just call me Edward."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, like she was testing the sound of it. "Elric," she echoed. "Sounds foreign. Not Greek. Not Amazonian. Not Atlantean."

"Because I'm none of those things."

Silence settled in again. Not awkward, but thoughtful.

Hippolyta leaned forward a little. "You don't sound like any man I've ever met. Where are you from?"

Edward didn't look at her this time. "Somewhere far away."

"What kind of place?"

He stayed quiet for a moment, then answered softly, "A different world. Very different from this one."

His tone wasn't cold. Just tired. Like he didn't have the energy to explain.

Hippolyta studied him quietly. "You don't talk much once you get your answers."

That made him stop tapping his knee. He turned his head slightly, glancing at her.

There was a flicker of something in his eyes. Maybe guilt.

"Sorry if it feels that way," he said quietly. "I just… needed some answers. And you happened to be there. That's all."

He didn't say it to be mean. He was just being honest.

For a second, he looked less like a powerful warrior and more like a young man who had no idea what came next.

Hippolyta tilted her head, letting the silence settle before replying. "That's a very polite way of saying 'thank you and please leave now.'"

Edward's lips twitched into something halfway between a smile and a wince. "That wasn't my intention."

"Wasn't it?" she challenged.

There was no accusation in her tone—just challenge. She wasn't angry, but she was testing him, as Amazons often did for any men.

Edward sighed. "I usually don't talk much. Not because I don't care. Just… adjusting to my existential crisis."

Hippolyta studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright," she said softly. "I suppose I can understand that."

She tilted her head at Edward's answer, clearly not fully convinced, but she let it go with a small nod. The silence that followed wasn't hostile, just… awkward. It hung between them like smoke—neither tense nor warm. Just unsure.

Then, clearing her throat a little too loudly, Hippolyta broke the stillness. She tried to sound casual, though her words came out more deliberate than intended.

"I can find my way back home tomorrow morning… may I rest here tonight?"

Edward finally turned all the way around to face her. His brow raised slightly, one corner of his mouth twitching. "Aren't Amazons supposed to be man-haters or something?" he asked, voice tinged with sarcasm. "Why are you so willing to stay here—with a man?"

That made her laugh. A real, hearty laugh. It echoed through the golden air of the ship, light but rich, and it caught Edward off guard.

"We're not exactly man-haters," she said, smirking as she met his eyes. "We just have a long history of terrible experiences with men. Our culture doesn't tolerate arrogance that comes with no strength. Most men are loud, foolish, and think too highly of themselves. But you are unlike any men, aren't you oh mighty god killer?"

Edward gave a small shrug, almost amused. "Fair enough."

She continued, leaning slightly forward now, her tone quieter but sharper, "you could've killed me easily. Or done something worse. You overpowered me with barely any effort… and yet, you didn't. You weren't interested in dominating me. You didn't look at me like a prize or a challenge. You only wanted knowledge. That's rare."

"Are you aware of the Amazon customs?"" She suddenly asked.

Edward shook his head, "Not really. Which one are you talking about?"

She held his gaze a moment longer before sitting back again witha smile. "Nothing. That's why I feel safer up here, in this ship, with you… than down there."

Edward blinked slowly, processing her words.

"Well," he finally muttered, scratching the back of his neck, "I'm not in the mood to deal with any divine nonsense tonight anyway. You can sleep over there on the floor while I rest."

"How Chivalrous of you," she said, dry amusement in her voice.

He didn't reply. Just turned back to the stars, arms folding across his chest as he leaned against the armrest of the throne. His eyes drifted back toward the window, but they weren't really seeing anything outside anymore.

His mind had already wandered again. He was trying to use Sha Naqba Imuru to learn more about the world, althoug it was quite difficult to comprehend.

Something about this entire world was… off. At first, he thought it was just another messed-up timeline or some multiverse jump. But this wasn't just some Isekai plot with random rules.

It felt designed.

Like there was an invisible hand pushing events forward. Like some intelligence was bending fate around him. Making things happen. Testing him.

And the more he thought about it, the less random everything seemed. (Of course dude, you are in a fanfic)

Hippolyta watched him quietly from across the room. His silence wasn't cold—it was distant, as if he was a thousand miles away. She opened her mouth to say something, maybe ask a question about what he was thinking—but then stopped.

She tried to strike a conversation again, a moment later. Said something about the stars, maybe. Or asked if he'd ever plan to visit Themyscira.

But there was no answer. Not even a glance.

He wasn't ignoring her to be rude. He just… wasn't there. Not mentally.

After a few seconds of waiting, she sighed and gave up. "Forget it," she muttered under her breath.

Turning away, she reached up and began removing her armor piece by piece.

Click.

The first latch came loose from her shoulder guard.

Slide.

The bronze plate slipped off and was laid gently to the side.

Clatter.

Her chestplate followed, the metal ringing softly against the ship's floor.

The noise pulled Edward out of his trance. His eyes blinked back into focus.

He turned—and froze.

"Hey," he said nervously, yet staring nonetheless, "why are you taking your clothes off?"

Hippolyta didn't even pause. "I'm not going to sleep in a heavy bronze armor," she replied, completely calm. "I'm just making myself comfortable."

She moved on to her arm guards, her fingers moving with practiced ease. Beneath the armor was a light cloth wrapped around her chest and simple cloth around her waist. It was quite revealing by her standards, the way the fabric clung to her muscular, sculpted frame left little to the imagination.

Edward turned his head away immediately, jaw tightening slightly. But not before his eyes betrayed him for a half-second too long.

Hippolyta caught it.

She smirked.

Despite his divine power, deadly calm, and strange wisdom, he was still a man underneath it all. She didn't mind. In fact, there was a strange satisfaction in seeing him flustered.

Stretching her arms over her head, she let out a soft sigh and began settling down on a folded piece of cloth at the edge of the ship. Her back was to him now, but the smirk remained on her lips.

She didn't say anything more. 

Edward just shook his head slowly, muttering something under his breath, and closed his eyes as he leaned further into the throne's side. He wasn't going to let this distract him. He had more important things to worry about.

This world. These gods. The cosmic madness that seemed to swirl around him.

****

Edward quickly turned his eyes away, coughing once and running a hand down his face.

Charm of Mystery and Solitude – A Rank. Passive.

Activates automatically around opposite sex from any race and incites their curiousity and desires. Currently restricted by host to D rank.

Goddamn passive skills. He hated it. Unintentionally drawing attention from anyone , specially females with a pulse was exhausting. He can walk into a tavern and leave with half the town following him just to stare.

He had to manually seal half his charisma-based skill tree just to function in society.

And now here he was—sharing a ship with a half-naked Amazon Queen while battling the existential dread of cosmic timelines.

She turned her head and found him still reclining in that odd floating throne-like seat, body relaxed, but his face… wasn't.

His brow was creased ever so slightly. Lips pressed in a tight line. Even with his eyes closed, she could tell—he wasn't asleep. Not really. Something deeper was playing behind his mind. Something that pulled at him like a storm just beneath the surface.

Hippolyta exhaled, watching him a moment longer.

"I've met many men who try to look calm. Most of them are just hiding fear, or lust, or weakness. But you…" She paused, frowning thoughtfully. "You just look… tired."

Edward's fingers twitched slightly. His voice came a moment later, low and dry.

"You talk a lot for someone trying to sleep."

"I find your silence not amusing," she replied with a shrug. "Besides, I don't sleep well on foreign ships with strangers who fly golden thrones through the sky."

"You're welcome, by the way," he said without opening his eyes.

She chuckled. "Don't flatter yourself. I would've escaped eventually."

"You were upside down and buried half a meter into the dirt."

"A minor setback," she replied, stretching again. "We've had worse training drills."

A ghost of a smile flickered across Edward's face, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. The silence crept back between them.

After a few more heartbeats, Hippolyta shifted onto her side to face him more directly. Her expression was softer now, more serious.

"You're truly not from this world, are you?" she asked.

Edward opened his eyes, finally. They glinted faintly in the light, sharp and ancient despite his youthful face.

"No."

There was no hesitation. Just a blunt, matter-of-fact answer.

"And yet… you walk like a king, speak like a philosopher, and fight like a god."

He didn't respond, but he didn't deny it either.

"What are you looking for?" she asked, her voice quieter now.

Edward's gaze shifted slightly, but not toward her. More like toward something far beyond the walls of the ship. Something not even in this sky.

"I'm trying to figure that out," he admitted, almost to himself.

"I meant it when I said you're different," she continued. "You look like someone who could tear mountains apart with a thought, but you carry yourself like you're waiting for permission."

He frowned slightly.

"Permission to what?"

"To matter," she said simply. "To exist without a mission. To rest."

Edward blinked. Of all the things he'd expected her to say, that wasn't on the list.

"You don't know me," he said.

"No," she agreed. "But I know the look of someone carrying too many burdens alone."

There was a long pause.

Then he said, almost in a whisper, "That's the only way they stay safe."

Maybe that was his purpose. To stop humanity from destroying itself like his world. To guide them to a better path. 

But that's something that lays far in the future.

****

The first light of dawn crept through the veil of night, washing the sky in a soft orange glow. Above the horizon, Vimana hovered gracefully, a gleaming golden vessel suspended in silence. Its smooth curves and otherworldly hum gave it the appearance of a divine chariot from myth—and perhaps, in many ways, it was.

Inside, Edward stirred.

His eyes opened slowly, weary and heavy-lidded. Sleep had come in fragments, uneasy and shallow. Dreams too vague to remember clawed at the edges of his consciousness and faded with the morning light. He exhaled and sat up slowly, the light brushing across his pale face and casting faint shadows under his tired eyes.

Then he saw her.

Hippolyta.

Still asleep, sprawled lazily on the polished floor not far from him. Her body lay in a state of disarray—one arm slung above her head, a bare leg stretched out, the other curled. Her leather tunic had shifted just enough to toe the line between innocent rest and something far more suggestive. She looked powerful even in rest, but… alluring in a way that made Edward visibly uncomfortable.

He averted his gaze.

He'd never had a girlfriend in his past life. Never kissed anyone. Never even been close to a woman in the way people his age usually had. And now here he was, stuck in a flying relic of myth, next to a half-naked Amazon queen who had tried to kill him not twenty-four hours ago.

Focus, you idiot.

Edward cleared his throat, ran a hand down his face, and forced his mind away from the curves that refused to leave his peripheral vision. Instead, he walked forward and gripped the controls of Vimana. Outside, the clouds had thinned, and a small island revealed itself as the sun broke through the sky.

Jagged cliffs. Verdant trees. A flat clearing perfect for a temporary landing.

Without a word, Edward guided the ship lower.

Behind him, Hippolyta stirred.

She yawned and stretched like a panther waking from sleep, arching her back before blinking herself into awareness. Her eyes scanned the golden walls until her gaze landed on the tall figure standing with his back to her.

And then she remembered.

The fight. His overwhelming power. Her humiliating defeat. Her words to him last night.

A wry smile curved her lips.

I was rather forward, wasn't I? she thought, amused. My sisters would've had a fit.

Still, there was a flicker of something else in her chest—something faintly irritated. Amazon custom dictated that if a man bested an Amazon in fair combat, she must accept him as her husband. It was an old law. One she never cared for. But still, her pride bristled at the idea of being ignored so thoroughly by the man who had not only defeated her but spared her.

She rose, adjusted her tunic, and began fastening her armor again. Every movement deliberate. Smooth. Calculated.

She approached him with calm, quiet steps.

"Thank you," she said softly, standing beside him. "For allowing me to stay in your flying ship. I'll be going now."

Edward turned slightly, glancing at her with unreadable eyes.

"I won't report anything you said to the goddesses," she added.

Part of her, just a small, nagging part,hoped he would ask her to stay. Even for a moment longer.

But Edward only nodded. His voice was cool but not unkind. "Take care on your journey. Safe travels."

Her lips pressed into a tight line. A muscle in her jaw twitched.

That was it? No smirk. No sarcasm. Not even a hint of interest.

She scoffed, stamping her boot against the metal deck harder than necessary. "Men," she muttered.

But before she could step off the ramp, a violent tremor shook the air.

BOOM.

The sky cracked open with a roar as two fiery objects streaked through the heavens like meteorites. They crashed into the clearing below, sending plumes of dust and shockwaves through the trees. Birds scattered. The earth rumbled beneath them.

Hippolyta's instincts flared, and she whirled around, hands going to her weapons.

Then a voice—annoyingly familiar and soaked in smugness—rang through the air.

"Well, well, Hippolyta," it drawled. "Still as charming as ever since the last time we met."

Her blood turned cold.

"You've done us a great favor, really. Leading us straight to the one who killed Poseidon," the voice continued. "Father will reward you. Generously."

Her face turned pale.

No. Not him.

Her eyes fell on the massive figure now standing at the edge of the clearing, dust and embers swirling around him.

A man built like a war machine. Towering. Muscles bulging beneath leather armor. A grin stretched across his cruel face as he leaned on a colossal stone sword as tall as he was.

Heracles.

Son of Zeus. The so-called God of Strength.

The man who once deceived her, enslaved her sisters, and mocked their suffering.

Hippolyta's heart hammered in her chest.

Then another voice—this one deeper, colder, and laced with disdain.

"You're awfully close to this god killer, Hippolyta," it said. "Planning to betray the gods? Maybe I should bring your head as well,"

Ares. The God of War. 

He stepped beside Heracles, gleaming in dark red armor, his ram-horned helmet casting shadows across his face. His eyes locked on her with suspicion.

Before she could even respond, another voice cut through—sharper and disappointed.

"You've shamed your race, Hippolyta," Artemis said, appearing in a shimmer of silver light beside her brothers. "Frolicking with the enemy. And a man, no less."

But her voice faltered slightly. Her gaze slid toward Edward—and lingered.

He stood calmly atop Vimana, arms folded, his golden robe fluttering slightly in the wind. The morning sun cast a warm halo around him. His expression unreadable, regal even.

He doesn't look unpleasant like the other men, Artemis thought before quickly shaking the idea from her head.

Then came Hermes in a blur of wind, his winged sandals landing softly beside them. A relaxed smile tugged at his lips.

"Now, now," he said, dusting himself off. "Let's not lose focus. We're here for the god killer. Once we deal with him, we can sort out her… choices."

Hippolyta's fists clenched.

"I didn't lead you here," she growled. "I didn't know he was the one. I just met him on my travels."

"Convenient," Ares said dryly.

But Edward had already seen enough. Still watching from above, he sighed.

"Ares. Heracles. Artemis. Hermes."

His tone was neutral, but there was a flicker of annoyance under the surface.

"It seems Zeus is underestimating me," he muttered to himself. "Sending the hot-headed brute, the bloodthirsty warrior, the prideful huntress, and his messenger boy."

His eyes flicked toward Hippolyta, who stood frozen in the crossfire of divine suspicion and old wounds.

"Poor woman," he said softly. "Caught in the middle."

Then he cracked his neck, eyes sharpening.

"Now," Edward murmured, flexing his fingers as golden ripples shimmered around his hand, absorbing Vimana inside the gate. "how should I deal with them?"

A voice whispered in head, eager to slaughter the gods in front of him. Edward felt a little hesitant at first to use the heroic spirit known for his bloody veangence and hatred for the gods.

 Avenger spoke with a cold voice,"I won't let my darkness consume you. I'm not like Berserker. But I might nold hold back once the battle starts. I hate those arrogant gods more than anything. "

Edward shugged with a nervouse smile,"Since you insist. Equip, Avenger."